Monday

The Cry of My People


This is a song I wrote recently. It was a cold winter morning and I remember, at the break of dawn as I opened my eyes to the crack of light breaking through the curtains, I had these words flood my heart. Won't you hear, the cry of my people? The cry of my people. I knew there was a song within me ready to be sung. So I jumped out of bed and grabbed my guitar. I started singing and then writing, feverishly. By the end of it, I was astonished to find that I had been sitting there for almost three hours! It felt more like fifteen minutes you know.

But as I read the words in retrospect, I began to see and grasp its message. I believe my inspiration came from deep within my heart and feelings, based on what I've been reading in autobiographies about war-torn countries like Afghanistan and different countries in Africa, based on the people I have been meeting, and the pain and human suffering I have been encountering up close. The cry of these people is also my cry. Won't people in this comfortable and wealthy nation of opportunities hear their voices of torment, of longing, of unspeakable loss and suffering?

At the same time, it is also a cry of prayer. God, won't you hear the cry of my people? Won't you rescue them from the injustices of this fallen world? My hope is only in You.

'Walk in the wreckage
Of a desolate land
Shattered windows
Blood on our hands

A soundless lament
In the desert sand
Flames engulfing
Our beloved land

Night has fallen
Like the winter frost
Children forgotten
This is what it has cost

Endless fighting
One ceaseless war
A nation mourning
All that it has lost

Won't you hear the cry of my people?
Don't you see the suffering in their eyes
Won't you hear the cry of my people?
Dust and ashes, the loss of precious lives

Won't you hear the cry of my people?
Every plea for justice to be shown
Won't you hear the cry of my people?
Their hope for peace to fill their homes.'


~ j a n i e ll e

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